


I Need a Hand to Hold

by AeonTheDimensionalGirl



Series: I’ve Got You (You’re Safe Now) [29]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Days, Canon Era, Caretaking, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Deviates From Canon, Fluffy Ending, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merlin is So Done (Merlin), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Soft Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonTheDimensionalGirl/pseuds/AeonTheDimensionalGirl
Summary: Merlin is having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon
Series: I’ve Got You (You’re Safe Now) [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939345
Comments: 34
Kudos: 511





	I Need a Hand to Hold

**Author's Note:**

> **PROMPT No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR**  
>  Intubation | Emergency Room | **Reluctant Bedrest**
> 
> Thank you so much to **Rabentochter** , who kicked me into writing this and helped with the dialogue❤️

The older Merlin got, the more he became convinced that the gods hated him.

He’d never considered himself a pessimist per se, but life in Camelot had grabbed the ‘per se’ by the shoulders and thrown it out the window.

Gaius may call him overdramatic, but Merlin felt he was rightfully entitled to his opinion, he could count with one hand the amount of times being optimistic had worked out for him.

In that same hand it could also be counted the amount of good days the raven had had since moving to Camelot, because yes, he is aware that not all days are perfect and there will be ups and downs, but for Merlin? Merlin was fairly certain he had to invent a spell for a good day.

Just- one good day.

A day in which he can start by waking up after a good night’s sleep, followed by a nice breakfast, followed by _normal_ servant chores (looking at you, Arthur), physician apprentice duties that didn’t involve some bizarre small quest for a rare herb in the middle of a bog, not having to stop an assassination attempt on Arthur’s life, have lunch, not having to stop an assassination attempt on Arthur’s life, have the afternoon off for himself so he can enjoy a small hobby like playing the lute or embroidering or reading or inventing a new spell/potion, not having to stop an assassination attempt on Arthur’s life, go to bed feeling tired but the _good_ tired.

That’s it.

That’s all Merlin wishes he could have.

But because destiny hates him, Merlin can’t have nice things.

And sadly this includes a good day.

And lots of bad days.

Which is what Merlin is currently going through, and the reason for this main internal rant.

First, he’d gone to sleep at dawn because he had spent the entire night chasing around Morgana’s newest assassin, who had an affinity for knives and had successfully managed to cut Merlin around his arms and legs and also thrown him around like a ragdoll before he’d finally managed to win the upper hand.

Secondly, the weary warlock estimated he slept only half a candle mark before Gaius had pounded on his door, informing him that he was going to be late to serve the King. So Merlin tiredly managed to only re-bandage his new wounds and put on a different tunic before stumbling out of the room, not even managing to grab an apple from the table on his way out.

Thirdly, the raven had somehow managed to hit the pane of every single door he went through, giving his already sore shoulders and hips bigger bruises than they already possessed.

Fourthly, he fallen off the stairs. Enough said with that one.

Fifthly, Arthur had been an absolute beast of a prat today with the chores, from taking all the clothes out from the closet to see if they had holes, to fixing the shoes chewed by the rats (which had been all of them. Merlin nearly cried), to polishing and sharpening all the hidden daggers on the bedchambers, because the gods know Arthur can’t be defenseless in his bed.

(The clotpole’s words, not his)

Sighing wearily, Merlin began with the chores, unashamedly using magic to help along, moving slowly around the chamber as he felt the injuries from the fight leave his body aching with every move, taking the first dagger he saw resting on the chest at the feet of Arthur’s bed and beginning to leave it shinny and deadly once again.

He worked in silence for the most part, too exhausted to hum or whistle a tune. The warlock simply let his magic create its own melody as the King’s clothes began to repair themselves and the holes in the boots disappeared as if they’ve never been under the mercy of rats-

And the newly sharpened knife slipped off his fingers-

And landed on his foot.

Merlin could only stare at it numbly while his leg began to scream in further pain-

He blames the shock for the stupid decision of taking out the dagger via magic, for he only realized the horrible mistake after feeling his foot get soaked in blood.

Hissing under his breath, the raven shakily stumbled a few steps to grip the bed post nearest him to avoid falling onto the floor, turning around to properly see the damage-

And felt his soul further leave his body when he spots the bloody footprints in the stone.

Great- Merlin was bleeding enough to soak through the sole of his boot.

Alright, no time to freak out.

He could just wipe it away with magic before Arthur could come back-

“Merlin”

_Fuck._

“Arthur!” the raven replied, turning to look at the blond while also hiding his wince after accidentally putting his weight on his injured leg, attempting to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

The King didn’t seem to buy it, for his face was blank and his lips were pursed.

“Why is your foot leaving bloody footprints?” he finally asked.

_Fuckity fuck!_

“Er- I stepped in spilled jam?” Merlin said, trying not to fidget in his spot under the blond’s stare and the pain on his leg.

“With only one foot?” Arthur asked, voice incredulous.

The warlock swallowed.

“Y-yes?” he attempted a carefree smile, bobbing his head almost too enthusiastically, “Small incident in the kitchen, things are always hectic there, it’s why Audrey is ever in a mood” he added in a conspiring whisper.

His dear friend simply stared at him.

“Right” he said, nodding to himself before gesturing to the mattress, “Get in the bed”

Merlin blinked.

“Huh?”

“What’s the point of those ears of yours if you don’t listen to a word I say?” Arthur exclaimed with exasperation, “Get in the bed”

The raven fidgeted again, nervous.

“Why?” he asked, feeling wary about the command.

This might be like- the first time ever since he revealed his magic to Arthur that the blond has sounded concerned for him, having practically been stoic with Merlin for the past fortnight.

“Because you’re an idiot who is clearly injured and should be resting in bed” the King gritted out, “ _Get_. **In.** **_The Bed_** ”

Merlin sat on the bed.

(He hoped the blond didn’t notice him flinching when he accidentally aggravated the bruises on his waist while at it)

“Now take off your tunic, breaches and boots” Arthur said.

The warlock bit his lip, hesitating.

Moving hurt too much, and putting on a tunic had left him aching-

“ _Mer_ lin-”

“I’m going, I’m going!” the raven said, raising his hands up in surrender, “I just- I was wondering-”

The blond tilted his head.

“What is it?” he inquired.

“CanIdoitwithmymagic?”

“What?” Arthur asked with slight bewilderment.

“Can I do it with my magic?” Merlin repeated, nervously playing with his sleeves, “I know- I know you said you needed time with adapting to sorcery, but er- it would be easier-”

“Alright”

“-So that way I don’t have to move and aggravate my wounds- wait what?” Merlin felt like he’d gotten whiplash by turning to look at Arthur, who had a barely visible smile on his face.

“I won’t have a problem with you using your magic” the King reassured.

“Really?” Merlin couldn’t help but ask again, feeling some hope settle onto his chest as the blond nodded again.

Sighing in relief, the warlock quickly whispered a spell that left him clad in his small clothes, his garments folding themselves neatly by the edge of the bed.

“Holy shit, Merlin”

Confused, the raven turned to Arthur, who was gaping at him.

“I- you said I could use sorcery?” Merlin began to ask with uncertainty, fidgeting again. Perhaps the blond was shocked at his scars? He’s never shown them to anybody-

“I’m not talking about- How- When the fuck did you get these?!” he asked, hurriedly approaching the raven, his hands hovering over the fresh bruises and cuts, “You look worse than Gwaine after a brawl at the tavern!”

Oh.

“This morning” Merlin admitted, frowning, “Or maybe yesterday. I don’t know, it a bit of both” he shrugged.

“You don’t- A bit of both?!” the King spluttered with something akin to outrage and bewilderment before glaring at the warlock and turning around, walking to the bedside cabinet and taking out the spare bandages Merlin placed there for emergencies along with a small jar of medicinal paste.

Approaching the injured raven hurriedly, the blond began to unroll the bandages and dab them on the bowl of water that rested on the table next to the bed-

_Oh._

For a moment it’s silent between the two men, the warlock feeling slightly uncomfortable at the role-switch but not knowing what to say to break the quiet.

Surprisingly, it’s the King who does it at the end.

“I can’t believe I had to bully you into getting your injuries treated” Arthur chided softly as he dabbed a large cut on Merlin’s forearm with surprising gentleness, “Being Gaius’s apprentice, I thought you would know better”

The raven looked away, remembering the day he’d had.

“It’s not like I had time to do it” he replied, voice tense.

“Bad day?” Arthur asked with a slight smirk, which was quickly wiped out when Merlin glared.

“You have no idea” he gritted out, deciding to look away again.

He heard Arthur sigh, but nonetheless, the raven did not turn around. 

It took a while and a few hissed curses with the deep cuts (but thankfully, by a miracle, no need for stiches. Merlin didn’t want to face Gaius’s ever judging eyebrow right now, he was certain he could cry if he got it), but the warlock was finally all bandaged and covered with the medicinal paste.

“Thank you” he whispered to Arthur, making way to grab his clothes with some difficulty-

And felt callused hands gently placing themselves in his shoulders, preventing him from moving.

“Stay in bed” Arthur softly said.

Merlin gaped.

“But- my duties-” he stammered.

“Can be done by someone else, you need to rest, Merlin” Arthur cut him off, pushing gently back onto the pillows, “I don’t want you dead on your feet”

Oh really now?

“So you can saddle me with more things to do when I get better?” Merlin angrily replied, shrugging off the shocked King’s hand off him, trying to get out of bed again-

“What? No!” Arthur said, eyes wide, “Merlin, no”

Said raven raised an eyebrow. The King barely let him have a moment for himself, let alone ever grant him a day off-

So yes.

Strange choice of words.

Arthur looked away, playing with his ring with pursed lips.

“Is it so hard to believe that I care for you?” the blond finally asked in a quiet voice.

The warlock sighed.

“Sometimes, yes” Merlin answered, hugging himself, “You’re… weird with me” he admitted.

“Weird?” Arthur asked with bemusement.

“You say you care for me. But also seem to enjoy running me ragged?” the raven said, struggling to properly explain at the blond’s wide eye look, “It’s like… you offer me your hand to hold, but I don’t know if I should hold your hand or slap it away before _you_ do”

“Oh” the King whispered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah” Merlin muttered, trying once again to get out of the bed.

“Don’t you dare move out of that mattress”

“I have my own bed-!”

“Mine’s more comfortable!”

Sighing once more, Merlin glared at Arthur lightly before settling himself back onto the pillows, calling a pair of blankets onto him with his magic.

Hey, if he was going to be forced to stay in the royal bed, at least he would take advantage of the luxury.

“Also-”

Merlin turned to look at Arthur, who was now playing with his mother’s ring again.

“I’m sorry, for my behavior” the King quietly said, “I- this will sound strange, but- but I’m weird with you because I- I want to hold your hand to comfort you, but- but I get nervous about how you will react, and I panic, and I slap your hand away” he looked at the raven, sapphire eyes bright, “I know it’s no excuse, but… it’s the only way I can find to explain myself”

… _OH._

“You’re an emotionally constipated prat, you know that, right?” Merlin said, smiling a bit when Arthur spluttered, “But I do suppose I should accept your apology now, no matter how strange”

Arthur chuckled, looking relieved.

“Brat” he muttered with a small smile.

“Ass” the raven shot back.

“Idiot”

“Clotpole”

“Dollophead”

“That’s my word!”

They both laughed, Merlin allowing himself to sink further into the comfortable bed.

“Hey, since I’m stuck here” he began to say, turning to look at Arthur with a smirk, “Does this mean you’re going to entertain me so I don’t go mad with boredom?”

“No way” the King replied with a deadpan.

“But sireeeeee” the warlock drawled, “I get easily bored!”

Arthur was silent for a moment.

“How about-” he swallowed, “How about you show me more of your magic?” he asked, voice strangely timid.

Merlin blinked, but still felt a small smile form on his face as he took in his dear friend’s look of curiosity.

“I can do that”


End file.
